Mnemosyne
by Raletha
Summary: Hilde becomes intrigued by the handsome acrobat from the circus. (3xH, 3x4x3, 2H - canon, het, yaoi, lime, friendship, romance, drama, Hilde POV)
1. Default Chapter

Mnemosyne Chapter 1 

By Raletha

  


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**Disclaimer**: Gundam Wing does not belong to me. It is copyrighted to Bandai, Sunrise, and the Sotsu agency. I am using the characters for entertainment purposes only. Original content and concepts, however, are my own: © Raletha 02/2004 & beyond.

**Pairings**: 3xH, ultimately 3x4x3, 2+H

**Rating**: PG-13

**Content**: canon, het, yaoi, lime, friendship, romance, drama, Hilde POV

**Summary**: Hilde becomes intrigued by the handsome acrobat from the circus. 

**Notes**: An experimental fic inspired by the gw500 'strawberry' challenge. Set during the series, some spoilers. In keeping with my initial inspiration, chapters are very short (between 500-1000 words)

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The knife throwing girl was still screaming at Duo, and Duo—not often intimidated—was backtracking with a completely bewildered look on his face. I watched them and could see he wanted a chance to reply to the girl, but she continued in her aggressive stance—like a rooster with all the ruffles of her brightly coloured costume bristling and her flame coloured curls flying every which way. I stayed where I was. 

The acrobat—Trowa, Duo had called him—sat, still and silent as a stone, in the small canvas walled space. It was set up as a dressing room with lighted mirrors standing over a folding table, free rolling clothes racks, trunks, and the smell of grease paint mingling with hairspray. 

Trowa sat on the edge of one of the trunks, head bowed over his lap, seemingly staring at the half mask cradled in his hands. His dark auburn hair veiled his face better than the mask had. 

"Hey," I called softly, "are you okay?" 

The glance that met mine was empty of understanding. For a moment I wondered if we spoke the same language. Then he replied, in accented but perfectly fluent English, "Am I supposed to know you too?" 

"No. I'm Hilde, a friend of Duo's." I gestured and moved into the room "That guy who tried to talk to you." 

He frowned. "I don't remember Duo." 

"Is there some reason you're supposed to?" 

He set his mask aside. "I don't know. I remember very little. Something happened, I lost my memory." 

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to say to that. I sat down beside him on the trunk, and folded my hands in my lap. The girl had stopped shouting at Duo; I heard the mumble of their continuing conversation though I couldn't make out words. Duo was speaking to soothe; the girl remained strident. 

"Do you know how Duo knows me?" The question was asked calmly, but the words were plea enough. My heart ached. 

I turned toward him. Sweat had streaked the heavy stage makeup on his forehead and cheeks, but his lips were still stained a uniform cherry red, and thick black lines marked the perimeter of his eyes. His eyes I hadn't noticed until coming closer—long-lashed and vivid green. The ache of my heart changed to a different kind of longing. But I hadn't answered his question. 

"Nothing specific," I said at last, "but I know some things about Duo, how you might have met him. But really, you'd be better off asking him." 

"I don't think Catherine's going to let him talk to me." 

His demeanor grew more submissive at the mention of her name, and I wasn't sure I liked that change. "Catherine, huh?" 

"My sister," he explained. "She's very protective of me since... the accident." 

"Oh, I understand. Duo's a bit of a mother hen with me." 

"Is he your brother?" 

"Not by blood, but he's the closest I have to family right now." 

Trowa nodded, a little distracted. It sounded like the objects of our conversation were returning—to collect their wayward charges. I didn't want to say goodbye to Trowa just yet. 

"Hey, listen, why don't you come by my place tomorrow—if you have time—we can talk more?" 

Trowa raised his head to look at me. "We're here until Saturday," he said, "I can probably come at lunchtime." 

"Great!" I scribbled my address on the back of a receipt for him. "It was nice to meet you, Trowa. I'll see you later maybe." 

tbc. 


	2. Chapter 2

Mnemosyne Chapter 2 

By Raletha

  


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When I did the shopping the next morning, I passed the stall of a green grocer who was selling punnets of fresh strawberries. Few Earth native crops grew well in the Colonies, but for some reason, strawberries did for a short season on L2. Not well enough that the berries weren't expensive though. I spent a third again more on groceries that day buying the strawberries and real cream—even more expensive—to go with them. 

At noon precisely, there was a knock on the door. Trowa stood there, in casual clothes: a dingy turtleneck that I guessed had once been either black or green, faded jeans, and well worn boots. It flattered his slender build, and without the stage makeup, the colours of his skin, eyes, and hair all appeared more vibrant. Duo still hadn't returned from wherever he'd gone that morning. Another resistance meeting I supposed. 

I invited Trowa in. He sat at the kitchen table while I made us coffee. The small-talk was forced—he didn't seem keen to engage in conversation about minutiae and the mundane. So after I joined him at the table, I turned the conversation to his amnesia, trying to find out how much he might remember. It turned out not to be much. I thought that was sad. 

He shrugged off my sympathy. "Catherine says I'm better off not remembering." 

"Why?" 

"She says my life was a sad story. I was a soldier and an orphan." 

"A lot of us are that. A lot of us have sad stories, Trowa." 

He didn't say anything. 

"I'm sorry Duo's not here today. He had to go to a meeting." 

"Did you ask him about me?" 

"Yeah. A little." To be honest, I hadn't asked him much more beyond, 'so who was that guy?'. 

"What did he tell you?" 

"You were fighting on the same side, for the Colonies. You were allies." I didn't think I should mention the Gundams to Trowa. It was too sensitive a topic to broach so soon. "That's pretty much it, unless you want me to speculate." I grinned. 

He made a small grimace. 

"I know, it's not much." 

"It's all right." 

He didn't look all right to me; more like he was slipping into some kind of introspective void. He was like a shadow of a person, sitting there with no past, and because of it, no real self or identity. What kind of compass could help orient someone lost like he was? 

Solutions I probably couldn't offer him, but I could offer him friendship and new memories. I got up from the table and retrieved the strawberries and cream from the fridge. 

"To make it up to you, I have fresh strawberries." I put the small glass bowl on the table full to the brim with washed, hulled, and halved berries. They glittered like gemstones. "Real, fresh strawberries. Not dried, not frozen, not stewed to death in a jam." I set the dish of whipped cream beside them. "And real cream too. 

"Now," I continued, "I don't care what you do or don't remember. If you've been in space, you probably haven't had either of these for a long time—if ever." 

He selected a strawberry half from the bowl and brought it near his face, staring at it hard. He sniffed it before he slowly placed it in his mouth and closed his eyes as he chewed. 

It was a strange ritual, but it intrigued me. I watched him as I spooned some berries and cream into my own dish. I became fascinated watching his face—his closed lips as he chewed, his eyebrows raising in—I hoped—approval. 

After he swallowed, his eyes opened. "Earth," he whispered. 

"Earth?" 

"The strawberry reminds me of Earth somehow—it's nebulous, but the association is strong." 

"Eat some more, maybe it'll help?" I pushed the bowl closer toward him. 

I received a halting narration as he ate. 

"I think I remember a strawberry patch—the plants seem too large, so I must have been smaller." 

I smiled in encouragement, but he wasn't paying attention to me. 

"The sun is hot, and the ground dry. I can hear insects—cicadas mostly." 

"You've been to Earth?" 

"The strawberries were warm from the sun, they smelled... they smelled like nothing other than a sun ripened strawberry on a summer day. Nothing else smells like that." 

"And they tasted?" 

"Perfect," he said, and looked directly at me. I saw my wonder reflected in his eyes, and saw the shadows behind his gaze dwindling in the flickering light of his recollection. 

"Anything else? Where were you? Were you with anyone?" 

He shook his head, and I saw the shadows returning. "No, it was just a flash, a snapshot really. It might not even be real. Maybe only something I dreamt." 

"No—I'm sure it's something." On an impulse, I reached across the table and put my hand over his. I wanted to help push back those shadows for him. "You remembered something real, Trowa, I'm sure of it." 

tbc. 


	3. Chapter 3

Mnemosyne Chapter 3 

By Raletha

  


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"You what?" Duo demanded. He had that look, his mother hen one, the one that forbade me from fighting, from going to the rebel meetings with him. 

I didn't think Trowa required that look from Duo. I glared back at him. "I invited him to come over again, since you weren't here yesterday." 

"I won't be here today either, Hilde." 

"Skip the meeting. I think it's important to help your friend." 

"He's not my... Look, I don't know Trowa that well. It's not my place to interfere." Duo paced across the room and leaned against the wall. "His sister could be right for all I know." 

I twisted on the sofa to face him again. "If you had amnesia, you'd want your friends to help you remember stuff—wouldn't you?" 

"Maybe, I don't know. But it's not your job to get mixed up in his life. You just met the guy." 

"I like him. And, geez, Duo, the way you talk, it sounds like he could use some _new_ friends." 

"Well, just... be careful. Unless, Quatre... Ah, hell, I'm not doing this." He pushed away from the wall and headed for the door. "I'll see you later, okay?" 

I was late home from the shopping, and found Trowa sitting on the stoop. As I approached, he stood in a single fluid movement that reminded me he was an acrobat, not just a lonely messed up guy with no past. 

So Duo hadn't changed his mind. 

"I'm sorry," I said, shifting my groceries to my hip so I could fish my keys from my pocket. "Duo couldn't make it again." 

"That's fine," he said, and then more quietly added, "I like talking with you." 

We had strawberries again, and today Trowa was more comfortable talking about small things. I told him about where I grew up, here on L2 in the agri sector. I concentrated on the happy times. Maybe my stories could trigger sympathetic memories in him. He listened attentively, questioning occasionally, and the time passed too quickly. 

Soon we were standing at the door facing each other, and Trowa was giving me some kind of significant look. 

"What is it?" I asked. 

"Your eyes, they remind me of... I don't know. Something. Maybe I'm close remembering something else." 

"Something good?" 

He cocked his head, and his hair fell away from his face so that I could see him clearly. His eyes tracked over my face, maybe questing for more insight into the memory. A tiny smile bent the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I think so. Something good." 

Standing so close to him, with his features revealed and relaxed, felt incredibly intimate. Somehow he seemed more—or perhaps closer to—himself for that moment, even though I still had little idea of what that was. And it emboldened me to reach up to him, brush his hair further aside, and return the smile. 

He surprised me and didn't pull away. 

"You shouldn't hide your face." I let my fingertips touch his cheekbone. His hair fell against the back of my hand. 

_Kiss me, it's okay._ I willed, but he didn't move. 

So I did. I pulled his head down to me as I leaned up and pressed my mouth to his. I meant the kiss to be chaste, but his response was more enthusiastic than I'd expected. The kiss lingered, turned into a second, a third, and soon, his lips parted against mine, and I was drawn more deeply to him. 

My senses swam in his scent, his taste, his warmth, but I forced myself to pull away. I wanted to ask him what it meant. I wanted to ask him how he felt. But he was leaving in two days. It meant very little, and whatever he might feel didn't change that. 

"Do want me to come again tomorrow?" he asked finally, a little breathless. 

I was grateful for the way out he offered, but I answered—perhaps foolishly, "Yes. If you want." 

tbc. 


	4. Chapter 4

Mnemosyne Chapter 4 

By Raletha

  


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He did come a third time—a last time—for lunch on Friday. My hands trembled as I spread mustard on the bread. I tried to get strawberries from the grocer's stall today, but the few punnets left had mould growing in them. 

"Swiss or cheddar?" I asked. 

"Swiss." 

I made his sandwich, cut it diagonally, and put it on my favourite plate—white porcelain with tiny blue flowers, it reminded me of my grandmother, of home-like things. It didn't matter that it was crazed and chipped. 

"Are you okay?" Trowa asked. 

"I'm fine, why?" 

"You usually..." He peered at me from behind his hair, wearing his small, lopsided smile. "...talk more." 

"Sorry." I shrugged. "I guess I'm feeling weird about yesterday—and, you know, sad that you're leaving. I... I don't know if I'll see you again." The words came out quickly, and I surprised myself by saying them at all. 

While I was speaking, Trowa circled the kitchen island and put a hand on my shoulder, gently turning me toward him. "I don't feel weird about yesterday. You shouldn't." 

I stared hard at the bottom seam of his collar, irrationally timid about raising my eyes. "But I don't know if I'll see you again," I said. I could smell him, sharp, clean, and intoxicating. I wondered if the air on Earth smelled like him. It wouldn't surprise me if it did. 

"Hilde..." he murmured, and it rang in my ears like an exhortation: _carpe diem_. 

Closing my eyes, I tilted my head and kissed him blindly. It caught him by surprise, and I only managed to catch the corner of his closed lips. Cursing my clumsy audacity, I turned my face away to apologise, but his fingertips intercepted me, taking my chin and coaxing me forward for another kiss. 

I expected him to taste like strawberries, like he did yesterday, but we didn't have strawberries today, so he tasted like coffee—and his mouth was at least as warm and as stimulating. When the kiss broke, I knew what I wanted. 

"I've never been with anyone before," I began, enunciating the words carefully through the giddiness that seized me. I put my hand on his chest, exploring the relief of his muscles and finding his heartbeat. "I think I'd like to be with you—and since I don't know if I'll see you again—do you-?" 

"Yes," he cut me off and sealed his affirmation with a deep kiss. I led him to my bed. 

And I wished then that I had more experience. The burden of knowing I was making him another memory—one of those that can linger and influence a whole life—was a heavy one. I made the best use of the knowledge I had, and Trowa, though I didn't believe he had much more experience than I did, took similar care with me. 

He climaxed first, embracing me tightly and gasping in harsh stutters against my neck. But before he withdrew, he loosened his hold, kissed and nuzzled my throat. 

"Did you...?" he queried in a passion drowsy voice. "I couldn't tell." 

"Mm, no," I murmured into his hair and felt the heat of my blush; I was glad of the dimness of the room. "At least... I don't think so." 

So he made certain I did, in a way such that neither of us were unsure of it afterward. 

In the succeeding silence we lay together in my single bed. Trowa drifted to sleep for a while. I touched his body lightly, not wanting to wake him, only wanting to remember him. He felt cold despite our exertions, and I held him close. Even if I only held a shadow of who he was, it was a shadow I would cherish. It was my memory too. 

tbc. 


	5. Chapter 5

Mnemosyne Chapter 5 

By Raletha

  


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"Trowa's here," Duo informed me as he wheeled me down the hospital corridor. It was the first day I was allowed out of my hospital bed on MO-II. 

"What?" I demanded from my wheelchair, "No, never mind, I heard you. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" 

"I didn't want to excite you." 

"Bullshit." I realised what I should have asked Duo was why he'd told me now. 

"Hilde-" 

"I want to see him." 

"You need to understand-" 

"Duo, I want to see him. Where is he?" 

"He's with Quatre." 

Quatre I hadn't met yet, but I knew a little bit of him from Duo's tales of the war, their time on Earth, the final moments of fighting. Quatre had been more seriously injured than I had. Did that mean...? 

"Is he hurt too?" 

"No, Trowa's fine." 

"Then why didn't he come see me?" 

"He..." Duo sighed. "Because I asked him not to." 

"Well, I want to see him now." 

I thought it would hurt more, seeing him again along with the realisation I'd lost him to another, that I could do nothing to reclaim him. 

Trowa sat close by Quatre's bedside. They were talking. I couldn't hear what they were saying to one another, but I did hear Quatre's soft chuckle in response to something Trowa said; I saw the way it lit his whole face. 

I saw the look in his eyes. 

"Hey, guys," said Duo. "Hilde's doing the rounds, she wanted to come say hi." 

At that look in Quatre's eyes—something twisted in my chest, winding tight until I was glad for the support of the wheelchair. Otherwise, I feared I would have stumbled, or fainted. It seemed like minutes passed before I could breathe again. I felt the warmth of Duo's hand on my shoulder. 

That look in Quatre's eyes—I saw its twin fading from Trowa's when he turned his head to speak to me in greeting. 

"Hilde...?" he said my name with a little bit of awe, but there was pleasure there too, and some surprise. I knew he remembered me. 

But the look in Trowa's eyes told me there was nothing between us now beyond friendship. For it was suddenly clear to me that the reason I'd lost him wasn't because someone else had found him. 

He'd found himself. A whole person looked at me from behind those green eyes—and though he might still be chipped and crazed, weren't we all? There were no more dark shadows that I could see. 

The tightness unwound, like it had never been there at all. A full and genuine joy replaced it, and I smiled so widely my cheeks ached. Oh, it still hurt, but there was sweet with the bitter, enough that I could put aside the shock and pain, and rejoice in what was good in that moment. "Trowa, it's... God, it's really you. I'm so glad. Duo hadn't told me you were here." 

"Hilde," said Quatre, "It's good to see you up and about. I'm rather envious, really." He smiled at me, a wide unaffected smile, and I noticed his eyes again, but for a different reason. They were the same colour as mine, a little darker, maybe a little bluer in certain light, but close enough to the same colour. Trowa had never even been mine to lose. 

"Quatre, it's nice to finally meet you." I meant it. 

Duo wheeled my chair next to Trowa's and pulled up a seat on my other side. 

Trowa leaned near, touched my shoulder, and asked softly, "Shall we make some new memories?" I didn't think Quatre or Duo heard him. 

I smiled. "Yeah." And this was a good place to start. 

**end.**


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